Coming to Grips with the Early Church Fathers’ Perspective
on Genesis (, 570 KB)by Dr. John Millam

Introduction

About the author

Dr. Millam received his doctorate in theoretical
chemistry from Rice University in 1997, and currently serves as a
programmer for Semichem in Kansas City. This article was first published
at
Reasons To Believe.

Rich Deem

Understanding early Jewish and Christian interpretations of Genesis’
opening chapters has been a passionate pursuit of mine for the last five years.
This is a very difficult and complex topic, but one that can yield important
insights into the contemporary debate over the age of the earth. Given my background,
a friend asked me to reviewComing to Grips with Genesis, a new
young-earth creationist book edited by Terry Mortenson and Thane H. Ury.

The book is a collection of 14 scholarly articles written by
different authors defending modern young-earth creationism, namely a
calendar-day (or 24-hour-day) view, recent creation, global flood, and no animal
death before the Fall. In the first chapter, James Mook covers how the early
church fathers dealt with Genesis 1, Noah’s flood, and the age of the earth. Since
the subject matter corresponds to an area I have studied intently, I will limit
my response to just this chapter. The central question I am trying to address in
this article series is whether or not the church fathers lend valuable support
to modern young-earth creationism as argued by Mook.1

A Little Background

While my actual academic background is in chemistry, I
became interested in patristics (the study of early church fathers) after reading
The Genesis Debate, which presents three different views of the
creation days side-by-side. J. Ligon Duncan III and David W. Hall support a 24-hour
day (young earth) view; Hugh Ross and Gleason L. Archer defend a day-age (old
earth) view; and Lee Irons and Meredith G. Kline argue for the
framework
hypothesis. Each pair of authors appeals to the church fathers’ writings to
support their own positions; yet their analysis of the material clearly
contradicts their opponents’.

So, who is right? This question was very frustrating for me
because there are so few resources available to help resolve it. Feeling deadlocked,
I focused on other things until I eventually came across
Creation and the Early Church, Robert Bradshaw’s lucid and
well-documented introduction to this difficult topic. What I found so
refreshing and educational about Bradshaw’s work was that rather than simply
cataloging the church fathers according to their interpretations, he analyzed
the complex history and undercurrents behind their views. I appreciated his
work despite the fact that he wrote from a young-earth view and was refuting
old-earth creationists’ claims about the church fathers. I also greatly valued his
refreshing honesty, such as his acknowledging that the early church fathers held
to a “diversity of opinion” with respect to Genesis 1–11.2

Bradshaw’s study reinvigorated my interest in the patristic
view of Genesis. It did much to correct and clarify my thinking, but there was
still much more to research. I soon realized that the only way to fully appreciate
what these ancient figures taught was to wade through the original writings and
study their historical context for myself. Moreover, it soon became clear that
I also needed to include early Jewish writings in my study. The church was
birthed in a Jewish context, so some of these works helped shape the church
fathers’ thinking.

The current scope of my research includes more than thirty early
Jewish sources and fifty church fathers and so covers the majority of the relevant
extrabiblical writings up to the fifth century. While the bulk of my research
is first-hand reading, I do still read whenever possible what young-earth
creationist writers have to say to insure that I don’t overlook relevant
information and to counter-balance my own old-earth perspective.

Problems with Old-Earth Use of Early Church Fathers

Mook begins his essay by criticizing those who argue that
the early church fathers supported the notion of “deep time” (i.e., an old
earth) and other modern theories. He identifies:

William
G. T. Shedd as claiming that some of the early church fathers taught a day-age
view;

Mook’s rejection of these specific claims as inaccurate is
justified. This kind of misuse of the patristic writings to support old-earth
creationism is a common complaint echoed by other young-earth creationists, including
Bradshaw.

Mook also takes aim at Dr. Hugh Ross’ claims on this
subject. Ross’ earliest statements claim that Irenaeus, Origen, Basil,
Augustine, and Thomas Aquinas taught that the creation days were long periods
of time, which Mook rejects as incorrect.4 In later books, Ross has backed away from many of those claims but still argues
that Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and several others taught that the days of
creation were 1,000 years each. Mook concludes that while Ross become more
nuanced in his claims, he remains substantially wrong.5

Unfortunately, few old earth creationists have written about
the church fathers and what little they have written is often poor quality (with
Stanley Jaki as a notable exception).6 This scarcity of solid resources is part of what motivated me to research this
issue for myself.

Based on my own research, no early church father taught any
form of a day-age view or an earth older than 10,000 years. In fact, the first people
that I can clearly identify as teaching the old-earth view are Isaac Newton and
Thomas Burnet in the late seventeenth century. This seems like a fatal blow to
old-earth creationism and a strong vindication of Mook’s position but closer
examination shows otherwise.

Problems with Young-Earth Use of Early Church Fathers

While Mook has many valid criticisms of old-earth
creationists’ use of the church fathers, what of his own claims? Do the fathers
really support his young-earth view? Does he accurately represent their
positions?

Mook does an admirable job of documenting specific claims
made by individual fathers (and thus avoiding the trap that many old-earth
creationists often fall into), but he fails to look deeper at the underlying
factors that helped mold their interpretations. Instead, he presents an
extremely one-sided analysis of the biblical and non-biblical factors shaping the
fathers’ interpretations in order to support his own desired conclusion. Sadly,
I have found this to be a very common flaw in the young-earth usage of the
patristics (with Bradshaw as a noteworthy exception). Consequently, most
attempts to use the church fathers by both old-earth and young-earth creationists are seriously flawed, just in
different ways.

The simplest and most important example of Mook’s poor
analysis is that he fails to grapple with the patristic fathers’ linguistic
dependence. These men were almost entirely dependent upon Greek and Latin
translations of the Old Testament rather than the actual Hebrew in which
Genesis was written. As Bradshaw documents in detail, none of the church
fathers were fluent in Hebrew until Jerome and Theodore of Mopsuestia in the
late fourth century.7 (Prior
to that, only Origen and possibly Eusebius in the third century seem to have
actually studied Hebrew, but neither was fluent.)

A deficient knowledge of Hebrew is probably the single most
important factor leading to a young-earth misunderstanding of Genesis (see
here for previous articles on this issue). This problem has continued to play a
significant role even in our own time.

Mook acknowledges that the church fathers were largely
ignorant of Hebrew, but he relegates this critical observation to a mere
footnote.8 He does not discuss the implications this ignorance poses for their
interpretations. Greek and Latin are very similar to each other but very
different from ancient Hebrew. So even a “literal” interpretation based on
either of these languages will not necessarily represent a literal
understanding of the original Hebrew.

Ironically, Mook does apply this principle selectively to
dismiss Augustine’s non-calendar-day interpretation on the basis of Augustine’s
dependence on a Latin translation of Genesis.9 If Augustine’s Latin-based interpretation is suspect, then should not the views
of the fathers mentioned by Mook be questioned for their dependence on Greek?
This inconsistency undercuts the objectivity of his analysis.

The main interest in the church fathers stems from the assumption that they
were closer in language and culture to the Bible’s writers. While that is
largely true for the New Testament (written in Greek), the early church lacked
a clear understanding of Hebrew and the Jewish culture of the Old Testament.10 In fact, Bradshaw asserts: “Given this evidence, I think it is fair to conclude
that at least in its knowledge of Hebrew modern Christian scholarship has the
edge over the church of the third and fourth centuries.” Unfortunately, this omission
is not the only flaw in Mook’s analysis.

The early church divided

It is well-acknowledged that the church fathers were by no
means unified on how to understand the creation days. Even Mook recognizes that
Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and Augustine rejected a calendar-day view,
believing instead that everything was created instantly. For completeness, we
should include Hilary of Poitiers and the Jewish scholar Philo who believed
likewise, even though Mook does not discuss them.

These facts carry two important consequences for Mook’s
point. First, there was genuine disagreement in the early church over how to
best understand the days of creation, with a small but significant number
rejecting the idea that they were “ordinary” days. Second, the church allowed
for charitable disagreement on this point and did not view it as an issue of
orthodoxy. Recognition that Augustine was the single most influential
theologian of the early church further challenges Mook’s position by
demonstrating that opposition to a calendar-day view cannot be dismissed as a
mere fringe position.

Mook responds to this challenge by dividing the church
fathers into two camps: the “literalists” and the “allegorists.” In the former,
he includes Lactantius, Victorinus, Ephrem the Syrian, and Basil, all of whom
he claims taught a 24-hour days view.11 In the second camp, he places Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Ambrose, and
Augustine.12 (Hilary and Philo, whom I mentioned earlier, also belong to this group.) While
Mook lists Ambrose among the allegorists, he is quick to point out that Ambrose
largely followed Basil with respect to Genesis 1. So for Mook’s purpose’s,
Ambrose can be treated as being among the literalists.

The implication of all this is that Augustine and company’s
creation views should be dismissed because—according to Mook—they did not
interpret Genesis literally. That would support Mook’s conclusion by
effectively removing any early church opposition to a calendar-day view.

Allegory vs. allegorical interpretation

To understand what is meant by allegorical interpretation,
we need to draw a clear distinction between that and plain allegory. Allegory
is a figurative or symbolic representation referring to a meaning other than
the literal one. Certain passages of Scripture contain allegory, as well as
other figures of speech, which can be understood using the normal rules of
interpretation. For example, Paul uses an allegory based on Hagar and Sarah (Galatians
4:21–31) to illustrate why the Galatians should not listen to the
Judaizers.

Allegorical interpretation, on the other hand, involves
looking for a symbolic or figurative meaning beyond or instead of the literal/historical one. One extreme
example comes from
Philo,
where he interprets allegorically the cherubim guarding the entrance to Eden (Genesis
3:24) as representing the two hemispheres of heaven (On the Cherubim 7–8). The key
difference between allegory and allegorical interpretation is that for the
former the meaning is found in the text itself while the latter looks beyond
the text and relies heavily on the ingenuity of the interpreter.

Historical background on the allegorical interpretation

Allegorical interpretation of Scripture first gained
prominence among the Hellenistic (Greek-speaking) Jews of Alexandria, Egypt,
starting around the second century BC. (Philo of Alexandria, whom I mentioned
earlier, is the most prominent example of this group.) Alexandria represented
one of the largest Jewish communities living outside of Israel; it was also a
major center of Greek learning. The Jews there were caught between engaging the
surrounding Greek culture and remaining faithful to their own.

In three different ways allegorical interpretation played an
important role in helping the Hellenistic Jews find a balance between these two
different worlds. First, it provided a way to apply Scripture passages to the
audience’s non-Jewish context. Second, it allowed writers to comment on Greek
ideas not directly discussed in Scripture. In the example I mentioned earlier,
Philo used the cherubim as a springboard to write about the nature of the
heavens. Third, some parts of Scripture seemed meaningless or even absurd to a
Gentile audience. Allegorizing them would help blunt those objections.

It was in Alexandria that this mode of interpretation
eventually crossed over into Christianity. Alexandria was a major intellectual
center for early Christendom with an important catechetical school located
there and of which both Clement and Origen served as headmasters in their day.
Allegorical interpretation served a similar purpose in the early church as it
had among the Hellenistic Jews because they too were surrounded by Greco-Roman
culture. Even more, the early church—including all of the church fathers—was
itself almost entirely non-Jewish with little knowledge of the Hebrew language
or Jewish culture.13 So, the Old Testament as plain Jewish history would have had little meaning to
the church fathers or their listeners.

Origen was the leader in popularizing allegorical
interpretation. Even more, he codified it in his three-fold method of
interpretation (First Principles 4.1.11–13). In his
system, interpretation occurred on three different levels paralleling the
tripartite nature of man (body, soul, and spirit). The first level of
interpretation is the “body” representing the plain literal (obvious) meaning;
followed by the “soul” consisting of moral principles; and lastly the “spirit”
representing the deeper meaning that is brought out by allegorical
interpretation. When the plain literal (“body”) interpretation seemed absurd,
it indicated that the reader needed to look beyond it using allegorical
(“spiritual”) interpretation. While this mystical approach may seem extreme or
unnecessary, it did serve to apply the text to people’s current situations and
concerns. Today, we might call this method “contemporary application.”14

The early church saw the entire Old Testament as being about
Jesus Christ. Every detail—not just specific prophecies—could be viewed as
serving as a type or symbol of Jesus Christ. Along with a variety of other
nonliteral devices, allegorical interpretation served as a way to uncover
hidden Christological meanings. For example, scriptural references to wood were
sometimes seen as prefiguring the cross of Christ.14
I will dwell on this in more detail in part 3 but for now will simply emphasize
that most of the church fathers (not just the allegorically inclined ones)
viewed the Old Testament through a Christological lens. We see this, for
example, in Hilary of Poitier’s Homilies
on the Psalms, where he views the psalms as primarily being about Jesus
Christ and so downplays their original historical context.15

Allegorical interpretation went on to dominate the theology
of the Middle Ages. It was the Protestant Reformers who ultimately rejected it
in favor of a literal (i.e., plain meaning) approach. They likewise
specifically rejected Augustine’s instantaneous creation view even though they
were deeply indebted to him in most other areas. I wholeheartedly agree with
the Reformers on these points. If allegorical interpretation is therefore to be
rejected, does this invalidate Augustine’s challenge to the calendar-day
interpretation and, therefore, lend credibility to Mook’s thesis that the
church fathers were predominantly young-earth creationists? No, it does not.

Legitimate (non-allegorical) concerns

While we should not follow the specific interpretations of
the allegorical fathers, they do provide some valuable insights into Genesis 1
that are worth considering. In particular, they identified at least three
scriptural arguments that seem to rule out the idea that the creation days
could be ordinary solar days.16

Nature of the first three creation days. If the Sun, Moon, and stars were not created until the fourth creation day (as
popularly understood by the church fathers), then what was the nature of the
first three creation “days”?17 How could they be ordinary solar days if the Sun did not yet exist? This
question provoked more discussion and disagreement among the early church
fathers than any other part of Genesis 1. Philo, Origen, and Augustine saw this
as clear proof that at least the first three days could not be ordinary days.18 (A detailed discussion of the fourth creation day and its implications for the
days of creation can be found in chapter 7 of
A Matter of Days by Hugh Ross.)

Genesis 2:4. This verse uses the words
“in the day” (KJV) to summarize all of the preceding events described in
Genesis 1. This usage seems to equate the “six days” of Genesis 1 with a single
day, which caused considerable confusion in the early church. One way that some
fathers resolved this apparent contradiction was to view the days as being
instantaneous periods.19 Today, we understand “in the day” in this verse to refer to an indeterminate
period of time (covering all the events of Genesis 1) and, therefore, longer
than 24 hours.

Seventh day is not closed out. Each of
the first six days is closed out with the phrase, “And there was evening, and
there was morning—the X-th day”
(NIV). This phrase is conspicuously absent from the seventh creation day, which
indicates this “day” is still ongoing and so spans a time much longer than an
ordinary solar day.20
Psalm
95:11 and
Hebrews
4:1–11 further support the idea that we are still in the seventh day.21 At a minimum, this contradicts a simple calendar-day view where each day is a
natural day.

So what are we to conclude from this? First, the fathers who
used allegorical interpretation did have at least three significant scriptural
reasons for rejecting a calendar-day interpretation. Second, it was issues like
these three that led them to read Genesis allegorically because a calendar-day
view seemed impossible to them. Third, recognition that the days of creation
need not—or even should not—be understood as simple solar days is a tradition
going back as far as Philo in the first century.

Hermeneutics in the Early Church

Now let’s consider those whom Mook has deemed “literalists,”
namely Lactantius, Victorinus, Ephrem the Syrian, and Basil.22 Mook asserts these four taught that the creation days were normal 24-hour days.
So, if these fathers interpreted Genesis “literally,” then does that mean
theologians today should interpret it the same way?

Over the last decade, both young-earth and old-earth creationists
have written many books and articles purporting to demonstrate how the
patristics support their own creation view. Typically, both camps present the
ancient leaders’ interpretations as isolated quotes or simplistic caricatures.
This tactic makes everything seem so neat and clear. Reading the original
writings in their entirety, however, completely shatters overly simplistic
understandings of the church fathers. Studying these august figures in their
original historical context is critical to piecing together a more complete
picture of what they believed and, more importantly, to understanding how they
arrived at their conclusions.

Having read much of the original writings for myself, I was
surprised at how differently the church fathers interpreted the Old Testament
compared to how most people would understand it today. Some of the fathers’
conclusions seem illogical or even bizarre by modern standards. Robert Bradshaw
recognized this as well. In his study of the early church, Bradshaw provides an
important discussion of early church hermeneutics and how it differs from
today.23 Though Bradshaw views this subject from a young-earth perspective, he takes a
well-balanced approach to the topic of early church hermeneutics. (I’ll provide
only a limited summary here. See
Bradshaw’s work for
additional information.)

The key reason the church fathers often interpreted
Scripture differently than we do today is because they saw the Old Testament as
being primarily Christological. According to Gerald Bray, “Christians generally believed that the Old Testament spoke
about Jesus Christ, not merely prophetically but in types and allegories which
the Spirit revealed to Christians.”24 They employed typology and other nonliteral devices to allow them to see Jesus
in these passages and, hence, connect Scripture to their current situation. The
literal/historical meaning would correspondingly have been treated as secondary
(not surprising since straight Jewish history would have had little meaning to
non-Jewish Christians.) All the church fathers interpreted in this fashion,
albeit to different degrees.

For example, Justin Martyr saw references to trees or wood
in the Old Testament, e. g., the tree of life in Eden (Genesis
2:9), the Oak of Mamre (Genesis
13:18; 14:13), the staffs of Moses and Aaron, and the floating wood of
Elisha (2
Kings 6:1-7) as prefiguring the cross of Christ. Origen added several more
examples, such as the cedarwood that played a part in the ritual cleansing of
lepers (Leviticus
14:1-7) and the wood that made the bitter water sweet (Exodus
15:22-27) to this list and other church fathers provided still more. So, it
seems that almost any piece of wood mentioned in the Old Testament could be
viewed as prefiguring the cross of Jesus. Water, particularly Noah’s flood, was
likewise seen as prefiguring baptism.

Numerological association was another commonly used tool in
interpretation. A simple example is the popular notion of the “eighth day.”25 Given that creation occurred in seven “days,” the eighth was taken as
symbolizing the new creation. This idea was established when the fathers saw
parallels to Jesus Christ being raised on the eighth day (i. e., the first day
of the second week) and even babies being circumcised on the eighth day (Genesis
17:12). Even more important, the church fathers viewed the eighth day as
marking the beginning of the new creation after seven “days” of one thousand
years each. (This eschatological idea was also based on numerical association—see
below.)

In some cases, numerological arguments were taken to the
extreme. For example, in the apocryphal Epistle
of Barnabas, Abraham’s 318 servants (Genesis
14:14) are interpreted as prefiguring the cross of Christ.26 This is done by first interpreting 318 as 300+10+8. Next, the numbers 10 and 8
are seen as denoting the letters “I” and “H” (the initials for Jesus) and 300
is denoted by “T,” which resembles a cross.27

While we may be confused and surprised by these examples of
“spiritual” rather than literal interpretation, it did not come from a low view
of Scripture. The church fathers held a high view of Scripture—seeing even the
most minute details as pointing toward Jesus Christ. We must understand that
the plain historical/literal interpretation would have had little meaning to
the fathers and their non-Jewish audience. By using non-literal association,
they could connect it to their own lives.

So the “literalists” shared the same need for a meaning
beyond the simple literal as the allegorists, whom I described last week, did.
Most importantly, the literalists often employed nonliteral devices. In fact,
the distinction between the literalists and allegorists is, at times, more an
issue of degree than kind. Mook’s crisp delineation between the two groups is,
therefore, rather misleading. In sum, simply because the literalists did not
resort to allegorical interpretation, it does not necessarily follow that they
always interpreted Scripture literally.

Victorinus’ Numerology

Victorinus
of Pettau (late third century) is cited by Mook (and many others) as
teaching that the creation days were specifically 24-hours long. This is based
on the surviving fragment of his treatise,
On the Creation of the World.
Mook supports his conclusion with a short quote from Victorinus’ work, which I
will include verbatim to show what details Mook does and does not include.28

Even such is the rapidity of that
creation; as is contained in the book of Moses, which he wrote about its
creation, and which is called Genesis. God produced that entire mass for the
adornment of His majesty in six days; on the seventh to which He consecrated
it…In the beginning God made the light, and divided it in the exact measure of
twelve hours by day and by night…

This passage seems to be one of the strongest declarations
in the early church that the days of creation were 24-hour periods—but a full
reading paints a different picture. Victorinus’ primary focus is numerical
association—not an attempt to correctly interpret Genesis 1. For example, the
fourth creation day he associates with the four elements, four seasons, four
Gospels, four rivers in Eden (Genesis
2:10-14), four living creatures around God’s throne (Revelation
4:6–9), etc. He makes frequent use of the number seven (the key
number in Genesis 1), relating it to at least twenty other occurrences
throughout Scripture. Twenty-four also held great significance for him as found
in the final paragraph of
On the Creation of the World (which Mook does not
quote).

The day, as I have above related,
is divided into two parts by the number twelve—by the twelve hours of day and
night…Therefore, doubtless, there are appointed also twelve angels of the day
and twelve angels of the night, in accordance, to wit, with the number of
hours. For these are the twenty-four witnesses of the days and nights which sit
before the throne of God…

We see that Victorinus’ emphasis on a day as 24-hours is
just a numerological parallel to the 24 elders (or angels) that surround the
throne of God (Revelation
4:4). Subdividing a day into exactly two 12-hour periods is likewise driven
by numerical symbolism because the actual length of daytime varies considerably
with location and season. In no case is Victorinus specifically trying to
address the nature of the Genesis days.

Mook’s use of Victorinus to support a calendar-day view
shows deficient scholarship and selective quoting. Clearly, Victorinus is far
from being a literalist (according to how we use that term today). So he
actually does more to undercut Mook’s 24-hour day interpretation than he does
to support it.

Hippolytus’ Chronological Symbolism

Mook lists
Hippolytus of Rome (third century) as defending the idea that human history would last exactly
6,000 years. Here, I’ll focus on a related point where Hippolytus teaches that
Jesus was born in the year 5500 from creation (Commentary
on Daniel,
Fragment 2.4–6). However, Hippolytus did not derive this value from
adding up the ages in Scripture (although he may have borrowed that estimate
from others who did). Instead, his argument rests on an allegorical interpretation of three different Bible verses.

First, he
interprets Revelation 17:10 (“Five [kings] have fallen, one
is, the other has not yet come”) as referring allegorically to millennia, hence
suggesting that Christ lived between the fifth and sixth millennia. Second, he
views the sum of the Ark of the Covenant’s dimensions (5 1/2 cubits in Exodus 25:10) as marking 5 1/2 millennia to
Christ. (The Ark was commonly seen as a Christological symbol.) Third, he
interprets the words “now is the sixth hour” (John 19:14), as corresponding to a half day
or 500 years (i. e., half of a millennial “day”). In all three cases,
Hippolytus’ arguments are highly nonliteral.

“Literal” Hebrew

There is an even broader and more significant problem that
applies to all of the church fathers—they did not know Hebrew. This is critical because ancient Hebrew is very
different from Greek and Latin. The church fathers were dependent upon Greek
and Latin translations, which affected how they interpreted Genesis. So, it is
rather misleading to refer to Basil and company as literalists when their
interpretation was not, in fact, based on the actual Hebrew. This same problem
exists today where commentators rely heavily on English translations.

Allegorists/Literalists Conclusions

Mook draws a sharp line between the allegorists and
literalists among the church fathers. In reality, this distinction is blurry.
When it came to the Old Testament, all the early church fathers used an
assortment of nonliteral modes of interpretation to varying degrees.29 In the end, even the so-called literalists weren’t always literal and were not
following ancient Hebrew. As a consequence, we would be better served by
reexamining Genesis 1 in its original Hebrew rather than relying on the
interpretation of the early church fathers.

The creation week as a pattern for human history is another
key example of typological (nonliteral) association that came to dominate the
early church’s thinking about the age of the earth.

Patristics Were Young Earth Creationists?

Since the church fathers were clearly divided on the
interpretation of the days of creation, Mook shifts his focus to the age of the
earth, where he can show that there was widespread agreement among the church
fathers that the earth is very young (less than 6,000 years old). Many of the
fathers, including allegorical interpreters, taught this specific view. (By my
own research, none of the fathers taught an old earth.30)
Mook concludes, “Allegorical interpreters among the fathers were especially
remarkable in resisting the old-earth theories of their day.”31 Mook sees this agreement between the allegorists and those he deems
“literalists” as proof that the church was united in rejecting the idea that
the earth is billions of years old. Taken together, Mook’s evidence seems to
lend strong support for viewing the fathers as young-earth creationists.

As if that is not enough, Mook then plays his ultimate trump
card: “Another strong proof of the young-earth creationism of the Church
fathers is their sex/septa-millennial view that the earth was less than 6,000
years old.”32 This refers to a popular belief among the fathers that Jesus Christ would set
up his millennial kingdom on the six thousandth year after creation.33 Those holding to this framework would have had to believe the world was less
than 6,000 years old; hence, Mook’s claim that the patristic fathers were
young-earth creationists. Surely, this is an open-and-shut case. Or is it?

Creation-Week Pattern for Human History

What Mook names the sex/septa-millenary construct, I prefer
to call the creation-week pattern for human history. This view posits that the
creation week of Genesis 1 serves as a template for God’s plan for humanity.
God created the world in six “days” (regardless of the nature of those “days”),
so human history would also span six “days,” each 1,000 years long, based on
Psalm 90:4 (“…a thousand years in your sight are like a day…”).34 Taken together, all of post-creation history would encompass exactly 6,000
years. This would be followed by a seventh millennial “day” (paralleling the
Sabbath rest) that the church identified with Christ’s millennial kingdom.
After this is the start of the “eighth day,” which marks the inauguration of
the new creation.35 Mook documents that at least eight fathers seem to have taught this millennial
framework.36 Robert Bradshaw, a young-earth creationist, also provides an extensive
discussion of this view and includes additional names.37

The exact origin of this model is uncertain but it seems to
have arisen in Jewish circles perhaps a century or two before Jesus’ time. It’s
likely that this model developed, at least partially, out of the apocalyptic
ferment of the time. With Israel under the control of the Greeks and later the
Romans,
apocalyptic
literature emphasized God’s sovereign control over all things—including
history. Having a clear formula for when God would act on behalf of his people
encouraged faithfulness amid such chaotic times.

This particular six-thousand-year framework was popular
among Jewish rabbis, who further subdivided it into three 2,000-year periods:
the age of chaos, the age of the law, and the age of the Messiah.38 To put this in context, some early Jewish sources placed creation around 4000
BC.39 Using that as a start point, the age
of the law would have begun with Abraham around 2000 BC and the Messiah would
inaugurate the messianic age in the early first century. For the apocalyptic
writers of the first and second century BC living under foreign domination, the
promise of the Messiah coming soon to rescue them was enormously encouraging.
Thus, this framework was popular even though it was not derived from a literal
interpretation of Scripture.

Christians later adopted this model. Since the church used
the Greek Septuagint instead of the Hebrew text, they generally thought
creation occurred around 5600–5500 BC.40 The church then used the creation week framework to predict Christ’s return on
the six thousandth year (rather than his coming on the four thousandth, as the
Jewish rabbis had taught). The seventh millennium (paralleling the Sabbath
rest) was identified with Jesus’ millennial kingdom. All of this had important
eschatological implications because it predicted that the end times would be
around the fourth century.

Starting with Eusebius in the fourth century, the date for
creation was revised to around 5200 BC, pushing Christ’s return back three
hundred years. Apparently, this was done to cool eschatological fervor.40 As time went on, age estimates
continued to be adjusted to stay within the six-thousand-year framework. In his
own research, Bradshaw writes, “For the purposes of our present study the
important point to note is that it was ecclesiastical concern over eschatology
rather than arguments that the world was more ancient that caused these
changes.”41

In the fifth century, Jerome’s Latin Vulgate translation
restored the ages at fatherhood (in the Genesis genealogies) given in the
Hebrew text. So as the Vulgate became accepted, dates for creation subsequently
shifted to around 4000 BC. Following the Jewish model, scholars placed Jesus’
first coming around the four thousandth year, but this placed his second coming
in what was then the far future (around 2000 AD).

Not surprisingly, the creation-week pattern waned in
popularity during the Middle Ages, since it no longer predicted Christ’s return
as imminent. Interestingly, James Ussher and John Lightfoot revived this
pattern in the mid-seventeenth century by assigning 4004 BC as the date for
creation. That date is no accident because it placed Jesus (c. 4 BC) exactly
four thousand years after Adam. Its popularity was assured because Christ’s
second coming would again be expected to be only a few centuries away.

Analysis

Much of this discussion may seem to provide Mook with
substantial support for his claim that the fathers were young-earth
creationists. However, a closer examination reveals a more complex story.

Nonliteral
origin. Scripture does not teach the chronological framework or the idea of
the world lasting just 6,000 years. Instead, this model is based on typological
comparison rather than a literal one. (Ironically, Mook does acknowledge that
the creation-week pattern involves “typological interpretation” but does not
admit this fact makes the framework nonliteral.)41 Additionally, the use of Psalm 90:4 to equate a day to a millennium is not
hermeneutically justified and is, therefore, not a literal interpretation.42 While the Bible certainly does
teach that Jesus will return, it does not in any way affirm this particular
eschatological model.

Popular
tradition only. Mook appeals to the fact that this 6,000-year model was
widely held (by at least 8 fathers) as strong support for his contention that
the fathers were young-earth creationists. But popularity does not determine
truth. Many popularly held beliefs are later rejected. For example, many of the
early church fathers taught that Isaiah 14 and Ezekiel 28 were written about
Satan, but Martin Luther and later theologians correctly pointed out that these
passages refer primarily to the kings of Babylon and Tyre.43

Emphasis
on eschatology. The creation-week framework set up an absolute timeline for
understanding history (past and future). If one was able to date backward to
creation, then one could work forward to determine when certain key events
would happen. For the church, this meant a way to predict Christ’s return,
while for the Jews it pointed to the coming of the Messiah. Lactantius—one of
the fathers Mook mentions—went so far as to incorporate this idea into his
discussion on the end times (The Divine Institutes 7.14–25). Historically, we see that both
this model and the age estimates were flexed to achieve the desired goal—a
sense of immanence for the next step in God’s plan.44

Constrained
interpretations of Genesis. Mook focuses on the fact that even the
allegorical interpreters (e. g., Origen and Augustine) taught that the world
was young. For him, that suggests that the age of the earth was the pivotal
issue. What he misses is that this framework (which is just human tradition)
prevented any church father from even considering the earth to be older than 6,000
years. In other words, no one could hold that the creation days were long
periods of time or that there might be significant gaps in the Genesis
genealogies because that would not fit within this millenary construct and,
thus, would be perceived as denying Christ’s return.45 So, for those who rejected a calendar-day interpretation of Genesis 1, there
was no room to even consider a position other than instantaneous creation. The
patristic fathers’ failure to teach an old earth should not be construed to
mean this idea is incompatible with Scripture.

Creation week history conclusion

Mook devotes many pages to documenting the creation-week
pattern for human history (or sex/septa-millenary construct) and its popularity
among the church fathers. For him, it is the crowning argument for his claims
of early young-earth creationism. The irony is that while many indeed saw the
earth as young, the view was driven primarily by human tradition. It is
incorrect, therefore, to conclude that the young-earth view in the early church
is grounded on a literal interpretation of Genesis—in fact quite the opposite.
As such, the popularity and consistency of young-earth creationism in the early
church is almost entirely artificial and so should not be construed as
supporting modern young-earth creationism.
We would be better served by reassessing Genesis 1–11 for ourselves rather than
relying on the early church for direction on this issue.

Was the age of the earth considered vital to Christian orthodoxy in the
early church?

While the days of creation, the age of the earth, and the
extent of Noah’s flood were subjects of popular speculation in the early
church, they were never treated as critical issues. First of all, not one of these topics was included in any of the early
church creeds. In fact, no prominent church doctrinal statement or confessions
of faith discussed any of these controversial issues prior to the twentieth
century.46

Second, not one of these three issues was ever listed as
part of the “rule of faith” (Latin regula
fidei), which was a statement of key doctrine. Third, most of the
discussion about the age of the earth and the flood occurred as secondary
points or illustrations rather than primary topics. The age question was
concerned mainly with apologetics, not a literal reading of Scripture. (To be
fair, some important works regarding Genesis have been lost, so my statement
only applies to the works that still exist.) Fourth, the church was clearly
divided on the nature of the creation days, but those rejecting a calendar-day
interpretation were never condemned as heretical.

As a matter of contrast, there was only one doctrine related
to creation that was considered essential—creation ex nihilo (or “creation out of nothing”). It was explicitly taught
by many individuals and included in key creeds and doctrinal statements (as I
document
here).
Creation ex nihilo does not in any
way require a recent beginning—only that there was a definite beginning to
matter in the finite past. So, the early church fathers clearly required a
creationist view but not specifically a young-earth view.

Did any of the early Jewish or Christian writers teach that the days of
creation were long periods of time? Or that the earth was older than 10,000
years?

To the best of my knowledge, none of the church fathers
taught and old earth. Justin Martyr and Irenaeus are sometimes put forward as
teaching that the days of creation were a thousand years each and so holding to
a type of day-age view. Further investigation, however, shows that the ”day as
a thousand years” formula was only applied to post-creation history, not the
days of creation themselves. Other people have
claimed to even find proponents of the
framework
hypothesis and
gap
theory among the church fathers but this is not correct and represents poor
scholarship. According to my research, the first
people to clearly teach that the earth is old were
Sir Isaac Newton and
Thomas Burnet in the late
seventeenth century. So, on this point, Mook seems correct (and Bradshaw
agrees). Nevertheless, that is only part of the story.

It is incorrect to assume that this absence of an early
old-earth interpretation represents a definite rejection of the position as
unbiblical. It was not rejected, per se,
it simply was never considered for the following reasons. First, the fathers’
reliance on Greek and Latin translations of Genesis meant they read Scripture
as far more narrow and precise than the text actually is. Second, the creation-week pattern for human history—a popular
eschatological tradition—ruled out any possibility of considering a world older
than 6,000 years. Taken together, these circumstances show that
the early presence of young-earth creationism and the absence of an old-earth
view resulted from faulty understanding and human tradition rather than a solid
interpretation of Genesis.

Were the church fathers young-earth creationists?

There is evidence that at least 12 fathers believed the
earth to be less than 6,000-years old in their own day and so in that limited
sense can be considered young-earth creationists.47 The real question, however, is whether or not this meaningfully supports the
claims of Mook and other modern young-earth creationists. The answer to that is
a strong “no” for two reasons. The first is that the patristics’ understanding
of the age of the earth and the days of creation was driven by a variety of
concerns other than Scripture, as I described under the previous question. The
second is that modern young-earth creationism is a package that contains a lot
more than the simple claims made by the early church fathers. In other words,
simply finding a popular belief in a young world among early Christian writers
is insufficient to support modern young-earth creationist claims.

To clarify this latter point, it is important to delineate
modern young-earth creationism from its ancient counterpart. The most important
difference is that the modern variety generally elevates the age of the earth
and related issues to the level of Christian orthodoxy—not merely a private
interpretation. That is a very marked contrast to the early church. The second
distinction is that modern young-earth creationism generally teaches that
creature mortality began at the Fall and so was not present in the original
creation. In other words, there was no animal death prior to sin being
introduced by Adam and Eve.48 Moreover, this issue is usually treated as essential doctrine. Scripture, however,
is silent on this point. So it is not surprising that the early church fathers
wrote almost nothing on pre-Fall animal death. They certainly didn’t see it as
vital doctrine.

While the church fathers wrote little about animal
mortality, they were notably divided on the closely related question of whether
Adam and Eve were created mortal or immortal (prior to the Fall). Bradshaw, for
example, notes that at least four fathers (namely Theophilus of Antioch,
Clement of Alexandria, Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Augustine) taught that the
first humans were created mortal.49 So, while some components of modern young-earth creationism can indeed be
traced back to the earliest days of the church, the most critical ones cannot.
In fact, modern young-earth creationism really began in the twentieth century
and so is, ironically, newer than old-earth creationism, which appeared near
the end of the seventeenth century.

Conclusion

The early church fathers based their
understanding of Genesis on Greek and Latin translations, not the original
Hebrew.

The allegorical interpreters (e. g., Origen and
Augustine) did have specific scriptural reasons for rejecting a calendar-day
view of Genesis 1. In particular, the creation days could not be solar days if
the Sun was not created until the fourth day. Moreover, the seventh creation
day is not closed out by the “evening and morning” phrase, so it is considered
longer than a 24-hour day.

Even the so-called “literalist” fathers often
relied on nonliteral modes of interpretation in dealing with the Old Testament,
such as typology and numerological association.

The cornerstone of Mook’s proof of young-earth
creationism in the early church is a widespread belief among the patristics
that human history would last exactly 6,000 years. Ironically, this idea was
merely a popular human tradition
concerned primarily with eschatology—not creation. This model artificially
constrained the age of the earth even though the Bible itself does not require
it to be so.

The central issue for the early church was the doctrine of creation
ex nihilo, not the days of creation or the age of the earth.

Other Resources

Dr. Ross looks the creation date controversy from a biblical,
historical, and scientific perspective. Most of the book deals with what
the Bible has to say about the days of creation. Ross concludes that
biblical models of creation should be tested through the whole of
scripture and the revelations of nature.

This book, written for Christians, examines creation paradigms
on the basis of what scripture says. Many Christians assume that the young earth
"perfect paradise" paradigm is based upon what the Bible says. In reality, the
"perfect paradise" paradigm fails in its lack of biblical support and also in
its underlying assumptions that it forces upon a "Christian" worldview. Under
the "perfect paradise" paradigm, God is relegated to the position of a poor
designer, whose plans for the perfect creation are ruined by the disobedience of
Adam and Eve. God is forced to come up with "plan B," in which He vindictively
creates weeds, disease, carnivorous animals, and death to get back at humanity
for their sin. Young earth creationists inadvertently buy into the atheistic
worldview that suffering could not have been the original intent of God, stating
that the earth was created "for our pleasure." However, the Bible says
that God created carnivores, and that the death of animals and plants was part
of God's original design for the earth.

References

In this work, the term “church fathers” is
being defined in a broad sense to include church leaders and influential
writers, not just theologians. “Early church” is used here to refer to the
period after the Apostles (starting c. AD 90) until the death of Augustine in AD
430.

Stanley L. Jaki,
Genesis 1 through the Ages, (London: Thomas More Press, 1992). He
covers more than 15. Jewish and
Christian writers throughout church history, which is the broadest review of
any of my sources. Unfortunately, this great breadth means that he does not
have the room to provide the level of detail I need for my study.

In contrast, the apostolic church (c. 30–90 AD)
had been primarily Jewish in composition and centered in Jerusalem. The change
over from Jewish to Gentile adherents occurred very rapidly between about AD 70–150.

The allegorists were not the only ones to
identify these problems. Celsus, a critic of Christianity, made use of these
verses to try to discredit Genesis. Origen wrote Against Celsus to respond to the skeptic’s claims.

This belief that the Sun, Moon, and stars
were created for the first time on creation day four is a common error due to a
lack of understanding of the original Hebrew. For a detailed explanation, see
Rodney Whitefield, “The Fourth ‘Day’ of Genesis.”

Ironically, part of the impetus for the
“eighth day” is a misreading of the headers of Psalms 6 and 12. The Hebrew
reads sheminith; the word’s meaning
is uncertain but most modern translations understand it to be a musical term.
The early church fathers, however, followed the Greek Septuagint and Latin
Vulgate, which rendered it “on the eighth.”

The
Epistle
of Barnabas was popular in the early church, in part because its author was
misidentified as being the biblical Barnabas.

Let me offer two minor caveats. First,
Origen actually wrote that the “world is not yet ten thousand years old, but
very much under that” (Against Celsus 1.19) but this
statement can be understood as being consistent with a 6,000-year framework.
Second, Philo (a Jewish scholar not discussed by Mook) is unique in rejecting
attempts to date the origin of the world (Questions and Answers on Genesis 1.1).
While this leaves open the possibility that he would be open to an old-earth,
there is no actual evidence to suggest that he actually was. John Millam, The Genesis Genealogies: Are They
Complete?.

Justin Martyr (Dialog with Trypho, A Jew 81) and Irenaeus (Against Heresies 5.23.2) are sometimes mistakenly cited as
teaching long creation days on the basis of equating “day” with a thousand
years. This is a common error and we see it, for example, in Hugh Ross, A Matter of Days (Colorado Springs, CO:
NavPress, 2004), 43. A day as a thousand years was never applied to the
creation days themselves, only to post-creation history.

The idea of the “eighth day” seems to be
drawn mainly from a misunderstanding of the headers of Psalms 6 and 12. The
Hebrew word sheminith is likely a
musical term but was translated “eighth” in the Greek Septuagint as used by the
church fathers. In addition, Jesus’ resurrection on the first day of the week
could also be viewed as an eighth day (i.e., the first day of the second week)
and so prefigured the new creation on the eighth day.

There were a number of attempts to date back
to creation using the genealogies of Genesis 5 and 11. The ages at fatherhood
in these genealogies as given in the Greek Septuagint were noticeably older
than the actual values given in the Hebrew text. Using the Septuagint, the
early church arrived at distinctly different estimates compared to Jews
following the Hebrew. In the end, these age estimates are not rigorous and rely
on a lot of assumptions, and are, therefore, should not be used in attempts to
determine the age of the earth. For complete documentation and analysis, see
John Millam, “The Genesis Genealogies.”

Psalm 90:4 is clearly a simile (a comparison
using “like” or “as”) to illustrate that that which we would consider a very
long period of time (a thousand years) is to God like a brief period of time (a
day or a watch in the night). Nothing in this or any other passage remotely
suggests that we can equate a solar
day to a millennium.

The creation-week framework changed and
evolved over time, as has already been described. (1) Jewish rabbis, following
the Hebrew values in Genesis 5 and 11, placed the Messiah’s coming in the four
thousandth year. (2) Early church fathers (first three centuries), following
the Septuagint values, held that Jesus would return on the six thousandth year.
(3) Church fathers of the fourth and fifth centuries suggested a younger age
for the earth to postpone expectations of Jesus’ return. (4) Later theologians,
following the Vulgate (and hence the Hebrew values), restored the idea of the
Messiah coming on the four thousandth year and placed his return on the six
thousandth.

The closest any important creedal statements
come to dealing with the days of creation is one curious statement that God
created the world “in the space of six days” found in the Irish Articles (1615)
and Westminster Confession of Faith (1647). This phrase only declares the days
were real periods of time—not instantaneous—but do not define their duration.
It was primarily intended to reject Augustine’s instantaneous creation
interpretation. See William S. Barker, “The Westminster Assembly on the Days of
Creation: A Reply to David W. Hall,” Westminster
Theological Journal, 62 (2000): 113–20.